


Familiarity breeds Contempt, and Q

by esmerod



Series: Gods' Favor [2]
Category: Star Trek: Picard
Genre: Background Relationships, Broccoli, Cameos, Comedy, Emergency Holograms, Ensemble Cast, Give Elnor a Cat, Icheb lives, La Sirena's crew, Multi, Non-Explicit, Other, Qcard Big Bang, Quests, Rios and his Holograms, Slice of Life, Tapestry referencs, barfight, episode fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-30
Updated: 2020-11-03
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:33:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 12,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27285736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/esmerod/pseuds/esmerod
Summary: Q Junior turns up on La Sirena and tells Picard that he needs to go on a quest to find Q (senior) because "dear old dad's been in a bit of a funk lately".
Relationships: Agnes Jurati/Cristóbal Rios, Icheb/Q Junior, Jean-Luc Picard/Q, Raffi Musiker/Seven of Nine
Series: Gods' Favor [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1994983
Comments: 8
Kudos: 40
Collections: Qcard Big Bang





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This story is a vague continuation of [Gods' Favor](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25712755) , though it's really not necessary to have read it.
> 
> You can find Iscalox's wonderful artwork [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27328129)

Something was poking his face.

"Sloppy," a voice said, penetrating the haze of Picard's dream. "After all the hype I really expected more." The loose skin around his labial folds was pulled back and Picard tried to swath the prodding hand away until, finally, the whole extent of what was happening registered. With a shocked gasp he shot up, instinctively lunging at the intruder, only to come away with nothing but air.

"Who …?"

A young man was sitting on the opposite side his bed. He wore an innocent expression but there was a mischievous twinkle in his eye that evoked an uncanny feeling of familiarity. Picard furrowed his brow, squinting against the twilight of his quarters. "Q?"

The young man's face lit up. "Ha! finally someone who gets it. Dear old dad wasn't overselling you."   
  
He flopped down on the bed, which had Picard scrambling out of it as fast as possible. “What are you doing here? And why do you look like this?” he gestured at Q's prone form while at the same time he was moving to the communications panel next to the door. He pushed the button. Nothing happened.   
  
Q raised an eyebrow. „Really, Picard, do you have to? Dad's always like…Jean-Luc this, Jean-Luc that… set the bar pretty high, you know. But I shouldn't have presumed when it comes to you puny mortals.” He regarded Picard with an assessing look, his head propped on one hand. „But then, that's not what you are nowadays, are you.”

“Get out of my quarters,” Picard retorted with as much severity as he could muster but his synthetic hair was standing on end. He really wasn’t prepared for a Q encounter at this time of night.

The young man laughed. “Oh, that one's familiar. But no, I’d rather stay.”

They stared at each other, provocation more than obvious in the young man's smirk, his whole demeanor practically daring the old admiral to make a move to throw him out. Picard’s eyes narrowed. “So, you're the son. What do you want?”

Q applauded. “Bravo, Picard. You seem to have some brain cells left in the big bald head of yours. Though it took you long enough to figure it out.” He jumped to his feet. “With this fresh positronic processor you should really be going better, but maybe they copied your old noggin too well…” He made a move to knock against Picard’s forehead, who intercepted the fist with an indignant huff and slapped it away.

“Or maybe not.” The young man shrugged. “But they really could've done something about the wrinkly skin. It's a bit gross if you ask me.”

“Nobody is asking you,” Picard snapped. “And if you have no intention of stating your business, then leave.” He pointed to the door, making an inconspicuous move to push the call button again. This time he got a connection.

“Picard to bridge. We have an intruder.”

“Have it your way, Picard.” He smiled and a flash of light later, he was gone. Picard stared at the spot and wondered what he'd done to attract the attention if yet another Q entity. He could already feel a headache beginning to form.


	2. Chapter 1

The headache hadn't come. Not properly. Picard blamed it on his oh so healthy new brain and felt a vague notion of resentment. A headache would have been normal, at least.

He sat at the table in _La Sirena's_ mess hall and had presented Rios with the report about his nightly visitor. To Picard’s elevated standards, the captain didn’t display the appropriate amount of concern though - quite the opposite actually, Rios seemed rather intrigued by the idea of having a Q aboard his ship.  
  
“We read about _Enterpris_ e‘s encounters with Q at the academy,” he said while devouring some grayish-looking breakfast gruel. “It must have been a fascinating experience.”

Picard had to suppress the urge to pull a face. “I don't know if fascinating is the word I'd choose to describe it, but it was certainly something.” The mug of Earl Grey tea in his hands was steaming, but so far, he'd failed to drink from it.

“An all-powerful trickster god,” Dr Jurati recited in an almost textbook like manner and sounded awed. “I wonder what he wants." She sat next to Rios, their shoulders touching.

Picard was wondering the same thing but instead of saying anything he forced himself to finally lift the tea to his lips and take a sip. Elnor next to him observed the movement. The poor boy looked confused, but then, almost everything seemed to have that effect on him. “Is Q like a person or a species?”

“Both,” Soji answered in his stead. “The Q are a species, but to our knowledge every single one of them is also called Q.” She smiled an encouraging smile. It had the young man blush a little.

“But how can they be told apart then?”

Soji shrugged and looked at Picard who was still focused on his tea.

“That's a very good question, Sisterboy.” A young man materialized right next to Elnor and clapped him on the shoulder with a bit too much exuberance. “To your tiny mortal minds Q and Q sound the same,” he went on and completely ignored the shock his sudden appearance had caused among the crew, “obviously they aren't, but nobody expects you poor little primates to understand the magnitude that is the Q.” He intertwined his fingers and rested his chin on them, looking around expectantly.

“He's not very polite, is he?“ Jurati observed. Despite having made an involuntary move to hide behind Rios, her remark caused some approving nodding.  
  
“He isn't,” Picard confirmed and calmly took another sip of his tea. He was the only one who didn’t look deeply unsettled by the entity’s appearance.

Q pouted and stuck his lower lip out. “It's not rude if it is the truth.”

“It isn't?” Elnor perked up his ears, shifting a little in his seat. Picard shushed him.

“What do you want, Q?”

“You're always so no-nonsense, Picard. I really don't get what dear old dad sees in you.” He sighed dramatically, his fingers having moved to drum a nervous rhythm on the table's surface. Then he sighed again, a rather put-on tortured expression adorning his young face. “Alright alright, I'll tell you, but you have to promise not to tell dad."

“We’re not promising anything,” Rios threw in, but Q only waved him off with a dismissive gesture. He was looking at Picard.

“I find it hard to keep a secret from an entity that claims to know everything.” He was still nursing his tea.

“But that’s exactly the point!” Q exclaimed. “Dad’s kinda been in a funk. He needs someone to cheer him up. And that’s where you come in.”

Picard raised an unimpressed eyebrow. “I really don’t see how I could help.” It was a bit of a lie. Of course, he saw how him indulging Q’s whims would cheer an eternally bored and hopelessly infantile alien up, but he really didn’t like playing court jester. Besides, one never knew what _cheering up Q_ might entail.

The young man stared at him, a small smile starting to pull at the corners of his lips as if he knew exactly what Picard was thinking. He leaned in. “Oh, it’s not that hard. You only need to find him. I’ll even give you a hint of where to start with your search.” He swung his legs over the bench and got up, slapping Elnor on the back again for good measure.

Then, already about to snap his fingers, he paused. “By the way, give Seven my best. Bit of a loss for you for trouser trout people that she seems to have decided to stick to the female persuasion nowadays, but it certainly makes for a good show.” He winked and one flash of light later, he was gone. It left the crew gaping and Picard feeling overwhelmed by the headache that had so stubbornly refused to come before.

“What in God’s name was that?” Rios was pointing in the direction Q had vanished.  
  
“Better leave God out of this,” Picard mumbled, massaging his forehead. “It never helps and only boosts their already enormous egos.”

“So, that was your Q?”

“Most certainly not!” Picard needed to force himself not to sound too piqued. “The entity he referred to a _dad_ is the Q I’m familiar with, but I’d still be rather hesitant to refer to the latter as _my_ Q.” He took a deep breath that was followed by demonstrative sip of his tea. It had Soji chuckle a little.

“I’m still confused,” Elnor interjected, but before anyone could inquire as to why exactly, he pointed to the bowl that had originally contained Rios’ breakfast gruel. Instead of gruel something green was peeking over the bowl’s brim though. The crew stared at it suspiciously and Rios picked it up between two fingers, looking slightly disgusted.

“Broccoli? Seriously? What’s that wisecracker trying to tell us with that? That we’re supposed to eat more healthily?”

Picard groaned and buried his face in his hands. His headache had just gotten worse.

* * *

Rios was back in the captain’s chair, relieving Raffi and Seven of their duty and simultaneously informing them about their latest visitor. It had a weird effect on Seven. Initially, she’d been in a good mood - or at least as good as it got for a deeply jaded xB – but then her whole demeanor changed. Her shoulders stiffened when he mentioned Q, and she mumbled something that sounded like "unreliable" before turning abruptly and leaving for her quarters.

Both, he and Raffi, were left staring after her dumbfoundedly. "Do you know what that was about?" he asked.

Raffi shook her head. "I don’t claim to know all her baggage. Nor do I particularly want to, it’s heavy if you get my gist."

Back in the seat next to Rios, she took out one of her vapes and started nursing it. "Don’t get me wrong, I want to help and all that. But some of the stuff she went through is dark, man." She exhaled heavily. "And you can’t shine a light in every nook and cranny."

"Picard would probably disagree on that."

"Picard’s an idealist."

They left it at that, both occupied with their own thoughts for a moment.

"So, where to next?" Raffi finally broke the silence. Rios didn't answer immediately instead his eyes were glued to the stars zooming past them at warp speed.

"Earth," he mumbled.

Raffi raised an eyebrow. "Are you telling me we're taking the old man home? After everything? I thought you had practically declared him your new father figure. You know it's pretty ironic because JL really doesn't like..."

Rios’ dirty look interrupted her. "No, we're going to Starfleet Academy. Apparently, an old friend of his is teaching there, and he's the one that can help us with the weird Q hint."

"The broccoli hint, you mean?"

"That’s the one."

"And here I thought things couldn't get any weirder." She sighed and took another drag of her vape. They stared at the viewscreen.


	3. Chapter 2

I was weird being back on Earth. Soji observed the busy masses as they passed them by. In reality, she knew she had never actually been to Earth before and it was merely the implanted memory of her human life that manufactured the notion of knowing the place, but at least her behavior didn't scream alien tourist in the same obvious way Elnor's did.

“Are you sure it's ok to just leave like this?” he asked while they were walking away from the street vendor, melting ice cream in hand.

“Of course, it is. Earth is a post-scarcity society; you don't have to pay for anything.” She tried to sound reassured but still couldn't keep herself from throwing a careful look over her shoulder at the cheerful Italian vendor, who, as if to rub salt into the wound, was still waving them goodbye.

“But the man said it was his best and that everybody loved Amarena. So, wouldn't it be polite to reward his eff...”

“Don't worry about it,” Soji interrupted, “and eat your ice cream!” Somewhat softer she added, “or it's going to melt.”

Elnor nodded obediently and took a cautious lick. It was quite the experience observing the range of emotions passing over his features. First guarded curiosity, then surprise and finally wide-eyed delight. “Oh Soji, this is delicious!” He turned back to the vendor. “This is delicious,” he yelled across the square, attracting even more attention than before and an amused bow from the vendor.

“Soji, we should really go back and thank the man properly. If he won't accept monetary compensation, we should still do something to show him our gratitude. It would only be right!”

Soji patted Elnor's upper arm. Sometimes the young Romulan's inexperience almost seemed to mirror her own. Of course, it wasn't like she didn't know how Earth worked, but theoretical knowledge wasn't the same as actually having lived in a place, and she was afraid that it'd show... or rather, that it'd show that she wasn't exactly what her appearance suggested. Sure, the ban on synths had been lifted, but the prejudice wouldn't go away quite as quickly, and part of her was still afraid.

“Let's go and sit over there.” She pointed at a bench, nicely shaded by a tall tree.

They sat down and Soji observed the crowd while Elnor licked his ice cream. Picard, Rios and Raffi had gone off to pay someone at Starfleet Academy a visit. The old man had been somewhat elusive as to why and how Q's hint was connected to that person and initially insisted that he went alone. But Rios, apparently just as paranoid as Soji when it came to any synth business, had made sure the admiral had some company (aka protection). It made her feel better for Picard but left her with a very wide-eyed Elnor (aka babysitting duty).

“What are these birds? They're not very shy, are they.” Elnor pointed at some pigeons that picked their erratic patterns right next to their feet. Soji smiled a little.

“Those are street pigeons. They descended from domesticated house or carrier birds and were then returned to the wild, which is why they are so common in cities nowadays.”

Elnor nodded, obviously highly fascinated. “It's funny how they move.” He imitated their rhythmic back and forth head movement. Soji chuckled and almost immediately fell in with it too, it just looked hilarious. They both nodded along with the birds, Soji doing her best to mimic the typical pigeon curr. It had both of them laughing.

“You know a lot about Earth.”

“I know almost everything there is to know about Earth,” she said, suddenly much more sombre again. “But it’s…” she gestured, searching for the right way to put, “just second-hand knowledge.”

Elnor opened his mouth to retort something but got interrupted by a rather grating voice and an overly energetic body that plopped down right in the middle between them.

“Oh, don’t be so gloomy about that, Dollface. Earth really isn’t that great,” Q said, putting an arm around each of them. They both stiffened.

“Q!” Soji leant away from him and Elnor had drawn his sword. The young man smiled an overly saccharine smile. "In the flesh." He winked at her and completely ignored the blade that was pointing at his carotid artery.

"So, what are you two doing? I assume old man Picard got the broccoli hint. It was really in-your-face if you ask me." He had retracted his arms and now looked more like a giddy child with his hands on his knees, bobbing up and down. "I almost felt a bit cheap making it so blatant, but one never knows what you're able to grasp with your tiny little minds. And I really need him to figure it out, so _Road Obvious_ it is." He turned his thumbs up.

Soji felt like massaging her forehead. She couldn't get a headache, but as a purely psychosomatic symptom what she was experiencing now came pretty close. "He's talking to an old colleague of his. Barclay, I think."

Q nodded. "Yes, that's the one. Nervous guy. Pretty sure having to talk to Picard will make him sweat like a Langosian dung beetle." Q chuckled, then he looked up as if he'd remembered something. "You know what, we should go and watch that. It's gonna be hilarious!"

And before anyone could do anything to contradict, he'd lifted his hand and snapped them away.

* * *

They were in a lab. It looked busy, people of all kinds of species hurrying from one monitor to the next, taking notes and whispering excitedly. They also completely ignored the trio. Q examined his fingernails while Elnor passed an insubstantial hand through one of the researchers.

Alarmed, he looked up. "Are we ghosts?"

Q started laughing. And while Soji doubted they had actually shuffled off this mortal coil, it was still pretty clear that the mischievous entity had done something to them, and she really didn't like it.

"Return us to the normal plane of existence," she said and tried to sound stern. It didn't work because Q only raised an eyebrow at her, clearly even more amused than before.

Then, a man in the typical yellow of Starfleet engineering entered the room. Soji noticed three rank pips on his collar. He was talking to someone quite a bit shorter than him who was following only a step behind and turned out to be Picard himself. She breathed a sigh of relief when she noticed Rios and Raffi were trailing them too, wearing somewhat dubious expressions all the while.

The engineer was obviously giving them a tour of the lab, and despite his rather noticeable rank he looked nervous, a few drops of sweat beading on his forehead. "It's really quiet the surprise, sir. I'd never have anticipated that you might develop an interest in HLDP. Of course, it's a fascinating field, but with the most recent headlines, I assumed your interest would be more focused on the social…" the man prattled.

Soji saw how Raffi whispered to Rios. "Do you know what HLDP is?"

He shrugged. "Holographic… long distance… pffff no clue. I really wasn't paying attention. He's not exactly on par with our good admiral when it comes to speech giving." They both chuckled. Picard shot them a scolding look while still pretending to be engrossed by the nervous commanders' explanation.

"Commander Barclay," he began.

"Oh, this is going to be good." Q had conjured a bag of popcorn and offered them some. Soji ignored it - like a sane person - but Elnor tentatively took a few kernels.

"Commander Barclay, your work on the HLDP project is fascinating, but it's not exactly why we're here."

Q elbowed her in the ribs. "So curious how he's gonna swing that. Cuz you know, last time they talked he 'promoted' Barclay off the _Enterprise_ ," the air quotes were practically highlighted.

Picard hesitated, Barclay's big blinking eyes glued to him. "You see we're actually more interested in what Starfleet has collected on more recent encounters with the Q." The words hung heavily between them while the commander seemed to be processing what he’d heard with a furrowed brow, one hand kneading the other all the while.

The crunching sound of Q eating popcorn successfully broke the tension and had Soji grit her teeth. Rather forcefully, she took the bag from him, even though the other people in the room clearly couldn't hear it.

"I'm not entirely sure I'm following, sir. The Q have never made an appearance on Earth," Barclay said.  
  
"I'm aware of that. I want to know about reports of _any_ recent encounters Starfleet might have had with them."

Barclay blinked, and blinked some more. "I don't think I'm the right person to answer that que-"  
  
"Nonsense, Barclay!" the admiral interrupted, his old impatience shining through. "We were sent here! You must know something about Q!"

Barclay stared at Picard, his mouth slightly agape, seemingly at a loss for words. He was sweating more profusely than ever. "I… sir… I… don't," he stuttered, "we… we research holographic projections here." He took a deep breath, trying to center himself. "We don't venture into space, and our work here attracts very little attention, neither from the public nor from any omnipotent beings." He exhaled, clearly relieved he had been able to state his point.

Picard, on the other hand, looked disappointed. He had taken a step back, pinching the bridge of his nose. "You don't quite understand, commander. I've been sent here by Q himself, in order to…" he stopped and shook his head. Then, more to himself he muttered, _"quelle blague."_

 _"Naturellement, amirale,"_ Q chuckled. Soji studied him from the side. He looked like he was having the time of his life.

“You have to stop this," Elnor said. He was standing on Q's other side, wearing a cross expression. "You're making this unnecessarily difficult for Picard." Q turned to the young Romulan, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "But that’s exactly the point, little Sisterboy. Picard has to prove himself, and why on Earth – or rather the universe – should I make things easy for him? Dad is always so full of praise for that stuck-up Frenchman…" his tone had changed into something sharper; it wasn't the best of signs and had the little hairs on both Soji's and Elnor's bodies stand on edge.

"… so, he must have some talents at least."

Elnor swallowed and retreated a step. Q followed, an ominous smile gracing his features. Almost instinctively Elnor drew his sword, even though he knew it was a pointless action against a creature such as Q.   
  
"What's that, Sisterboy? Looking for a fight?" he teased, his eyes following the glint of the sharpened steel. Then, he began to lift his hand, and Soji jumped in immediately.

"Leave him be, Q!" She grabbed his shoulder. The unexpected contact had both of them shudder, before the entity collected himself and turned around. "You know, I'm flattered, Dollface, but I'm taken." He winked, removed her hand from his person, and then snapped his fingers.

The white light was entirely focused on Elnor's sword which he dropped with a shocked gasp. It hissed when it landed on the floor. Both, Soji and Elnor stared at it dumbfoundedly while the - former - sword turned on its now rather feline heel and started sprinting away. "What…?"

Q was roaring with laughter. "You better chase after it," he advised while wiping a little tear from the corner of his eye. Elnor exchanged a desperate look with Soji before he indeed started running after the cat.

"Brilliant," Q spluttered, and Soji leveled a glare at him.

Meanwhile, Picard, Barclay, Raffi and Rios were bent over a map. "So, you're saying that your holo technology helped ending a centuries old conflict between two species?"  
"Oh yes," Barclay looked a bit flushed but clearly pleased with himself. "Due to the substitutions our HLDP offers, the Cryzyk and the Lyznyk were finally able to enter peace talks and overcome their old hostilities."

"You didn't get a lot of press for that," Raffi threw in, sounding pensive, and rubbed her chin. She and Picard exchanged a look.

"Oh, we don't do it for the fame. We're just glad we could help." Barclay had raised his hands in humble deference, but the pink tinge on his cheeks gave away how much he enjoyed being able talk about the projects' achievements.

"Uh-huh, you know I think _La Sirena_ 's holographic matrix is based on your HLDP," Rios offered. "Admittedly probably more the knock-off version than the real thing, but the trader said…" he stopped and looked at the rather confused, or in Raffi and Picard's case pained, faces of his bystanders.

"The HLDP isn't open for public use," Barclay stated with a furrowed brow.

Rios sucked in some breath. "I could also be wrong about that."

Raffi boxed his upper arm and Picard massaged his forehead. And then, as if he'd realized something, Picard looked up. "That's it. That's the next hint. Right under our noses!"

"What's what?" Barclay asked, his bewildered gaze alternating between the admiral and his no less baffled companions.

"La Sirena!" Picard said and clapped Rios on the shoulder, pointing towards the exit. The captain shook his head and looked at Raffi who only shrugged in response. Picard shoved them both towards the door.

Before leaving though, he turned back towards Barclay. "Commander, I would like to thank you for your help." He offered Barclay his hand who took it with an almost bashful expression. "It's no bother, cap- admiral! Even though I don't claim to understand what it is you just realized," he smiled a sheepish smile, "I'm always glad to be of service."

* * *

_"The cat was a nice touch, Junior, I have to admit. Apart from that though, both your and Jean-Luc's performances were rather underwhelming."_

_Junior raised an eyebrow which manifested itself in stardust and the igniting spark that set a class-VI nebula ablaze. He knew his progenitor was fibbing, so he let it slide. Q hadn't quite been himself since… well, since the incident._

_"Underwhelming, huh? And here I thought you would enjoy Picard racing across several sectors to figure out the clue."_

_"The clue was far too easy!" the disembodied voice grumbled. "Really, sending him to Broccoli and them back to check out the holo matrix… even an oaf like Riker would have figured that out."_

_Junior gave him a 'whatever you say, Dad' shrug. There was no pleasing him when he was in a mood like this. He only hoped that when Picard arrived at the end of the trail, it would be enough to right what was wrong with his progenitor._

_"Back in my day, I sent the Enterprise spinning in time paradoxa. A simple scavenger hunt is laughable," Q complained. Junior nodded some more and tuned out the rest. "You younglings have no appreciation for…"_


	4. Chapter 3

The cat was on Elnor's lap, all rolled up and purring. Jurati and Seven were sitting next to him observing the situation with either glee or suspicion.

"It's quite pretty. Do you know what breed it is?"

Elnor refrained from shrugging and instead tried to keep his body as still as possible. He didn't want to unsettle the creature. "I don't know anything about Terran cat breeds. This is the first one I've ever encountered."

"It's a Siberian Forest Cat," Seven offered in a flat tone, her narrowed eyes though suggested she was deeply wary of the animated weapon.

"Have you thought of a name yet?" Jurati inquired some more.

"A name?"

"Yes. It's common on Earth to name one's pets."

Elnor looked at the cat, his hand carefully gliding over the soft silver fur. "But it's a sword, not a cat. And when it turns back, I will have named it for nothing."

"But what if it doesn't turn back?"

Elnor cocked his head and opened his mouth to retort something but then stopped. Obviously, that possibility hadn't occurred to him.

"Don't worry," Seven interjected somewhat gruffly. "In my experience, things go back to normal once Q loses interest in whatever game he's playing."

Jurati turned towards her. "You seem to have quite a bit of experience with Q, too."

"He turned up on _Voyager_ a few times," she said while staring dead ahead. "But in the end, his kind are nothing but useless tricksters."

Jurati wanted to ask another question, but Seven got up. "Bridge duty," she muttered before turning and leaving two puzzled faces behind. They stared after her for a while, and then, rather abruptly, Elnor asked, "What would be a fitting cat name?"

* * *

"Captain Rios, could you elaborate again as to how exactly you came to be in possession of this Emergency Hologram Package?" The admiral was looking at him. So was everybody else in the room, including his five holographic doubles. It was a little disconcerting.

Rios scratched his neck. "Well, as I said before, I got the package together with the freighter."

Picard uttered a small humming sound and made a note on his PADD. It only strengthened the impression of having been summoned into the headmaster's office – or in this case, the admiral's study. Rios cleared his throat. It was feeling awfully dry.

"And you say it was the self-scanning option that especially appealed to you?"

Rios needed to loosen the collar of his shirt a bit. His doubles were staring at him, Emmet with a raised eyebrow and an especially leery grin. _"Somos bastardos sexy."_

Emmet was ignored, but it still made Rios groan. "It wasn't like that," he tried to explain. "I just didn't want to deal with other people at the time. So, making them copies of me seemed like a good idea. I came to regret it pretty soon afterwards." He glared at the doubles, and Mr Hospitality raised a hand to his chest with a wounded expression.

"But why did you say it was the same tech Barclay and his team are researching?" Raffi interjected.

"Not the same tech, just similar," Rios answered with a grimace. "It was the way he described this new rendering technique of the projection matrix that reminded me of what the vendor had said."

"That being the same vendor that sold you the ship?" Picard made another note.

"Not entirely…"

The admiral looked up. So did everyone else, their eyes boring into him.

"It was more the kind of vendor that you encounter when you leave the official parts of the shipyard and go to the back-alley corner…"

Immediately the room was in turmoil, his five doubles having sprung to their feet simultaneously, gesturing wildly at him. "You bought us from some shady crook?", "What were you thinking Cristobal?", "No wonder Emmet swears like a sailor", "That explains the shoddy programming", "I really feel we should talk about your sense of self-preservation."

"Quiet," the admiral said, and it had an immediate effect. The holograms sat back down. It left Rios gaping in wonder and indignation. They never followed his orders that instantaneously. He shot them a betrayed look before he eventually continued with his tale.

"The offer was really good, and I needed some kind of emergency crew for the ship. The initial installation it came with only consisted of some navigational and engineering back-up, so having the other guys seemed like a good idea if you intended to work mostly alone."

"Oh Cristobal, we talked about your self-flagellating tendencies for unnecessary isolation…" Enoch was leaning in with a soft expression on his face, his hands folded in his lap. Rios pointedly avoided looking at him.

"Computer, deactivate ENH."

Enoch vanished.

"Computer, activate ENH," Picard said and Enoch re-materialized.

Rios turned towards Picard. "With all due respect, admiral. What is it you want to know?" He was clearly annoyed now. "Yes, I got them from a shady vendor and the tech is probably based on some illegally acquired Starfleet prototype, but it has never let me down, despite their…" he gestured at his doubles, "idiosyncrasies."

"Awww," Enoch smiled. "Guys, he likes us." He looked at the other holograms. Emmet snorted in response, but Emil and Mr Hospitality looked smug and Ian was even wiping a tiny tear from the corner of his eye.

"This is a soap opera," Raffi muttered and shook her head.

"This isn't about making accusations, captain. I'm interested in their coding. If it is indeed similar to what commander Barclay was working on, then it might contain the next clue in this," Picard paused, "ridiculous scavenger hunt."

"Why are we even going along with it?" Rios was massaging his forehead.

"May I remind you that it was you who called meeting Q a fascinating experience," Picard retorted sharply.

"Yeah yeah," Rios raised his hands in surrender. "I realized that might have been a premature assessment of the situation. But anyways, do you even know how this whole holo matrix coding works?"

Now it was Picard's turn to clear his throat. His gaze wandered to Raffi who only shrugged apologetically and shook her head. "Maybe Soji knows," she supplied, "she knows a bit of everything."

"That's true," Enoch piped up, "Miss Asha is indeed very versatile in her ski..", "Shut up!"  
Rios threw the hologram a warning look, and Enoch indeed followed along by making the zipping his mouth shut gesture.

"Don't they know anything about their own code?" Raffi asked.

Rios scoffed. "Forget it. That's like asking a great ape about Darwin's evolutionary theories."

"I find that offensive", "We're quite aware of the basics of holo matrix coding", "Unfortunately, we're incapable of making any changes to it due to…", " _Mierda!",_ "This is an another issue that should have been addressed in the act for holographic rights", "We're once again neglected in…"

"See?" Rios pointed at the upset holograms, "And that's why they can't help you with that."

* * *

Soji was crouched over the processor, about four PADDs strewn around her, hair tied into a messy bun and generally looking rather exasperated while Ian blinked in and out of existence. "You're doing this wrong, lassie," he commented.

"You don't say," she muttered more to herself and fiddled something with circuits. It had the hologram shudder and then freeze "Great, just great." The screwdriver landed on the floor with more force than necessary. She wiped her forehead and sighed.

"I assume that means things aren't going too well," Picard's soft voice said. She sighed once more and looked up. He was standing a few meters away, eyeing the strewn components carefully.

She sat back. "In theory it's simple, but in reality…" she gestured to the mess surrounding her.

"Forgive my ignorance, Soji, but weren't you supposed to just access the code?"

"Oh yes," she huffed, "but this thing that Rios has pointed out as the main processor isn't the main processor."

Picard raised an eyebrow.

"It certainly contains some holographic data but not the one we're looking for. Which means I have no idea where he, " she pointed at Ian, "and his brethren are stored."

"Well, that's disconcerting."

She nodded and was already about to go back to her fiddling when a screech and a crashing sound interrupted her. They both turned their heads sharply in the direction of the noise.

"Stop it," Jurati yelled, then footsteps could be heard.

Elnor's silver-furred cat came racing around the corner. It was carrying something in its mouth and didn't make the slightest move to acknowledge either Soji or the admiral – let alone the mess that was surrounding them – while it sprinted past them. Only a second later a very out of breath Jurati and a rather flustered looking Elnor followed. "Have you seen it? Where did it go?" Jurati panted.

Soji pointed in the direction the cat had vanished. Elnor only gave a short nod before continuing in his chase, but the dear doctor seemed to need a moment to compose herself. With her hands braced on her thighs, she was trying to catch her breath. "That cat is a menace!" She wiped some sweat from her brow.

Picard and Soji were staring at her. Somewhat unhelpfully, Soji asked, "Have you decided what to name it yet?"

"How about menace?" Seven's suggested. She was leaning casually against the corner from where the cat had come, arms crossed over her chest. Jurati waved her off with a dismissive gesture.

* * *

_"Menace is a rather fitting name," the young man said. "And also a very good title for a sword. So being doubly applicable will come in handy once you turn it back."_   
  
_Q had his hands on the young man's shoulders, gently trailing the sloping lines that were hidden by the uniform. The young man turned around and fixed Q with an inquisitive look. "You are going to turn it back, aren't' you?"_

_Q removed his hands. "Oh, Itchi. You're always expecting the worst from me. Of course, I'm going to turn it back… eventually." He smiled a mischievous smile._

_The young man's mouth pursed and his eyes narrowed. He was trying to look stern, but it wasn't particularly successful. "Q…"_

_"Don't worry so much, darling." Q chuckled and leant in. With the utmost care he brushed a strand of hair out of the young man's face. They looked at each other. Q's expression was fond, while the young man was trying to uphold the crumbling façade of severity. "You really need to show more respect for people's personal belongings," he reprimanded but mostly sounded exasperated. "We talked about boundaries."_

_"Of course," Q soothed. "Now, do you want to see where they go next?"_


	5. Chapter 4

Deep Space 9, hub of travel and commerce, and, as Seven would have put it, far too many Ferengi.   
  
They had docked _La Sirena_ and claimed that the crew was looking for a bit of R&R after an especially long and taxing haul with their freighter. Colonel Kira had received that with a dubiously raised eyebrow but given them permission to come aboard anyway. That was the problem when you traveled with someone as high-profile as Jean-Luc Picard, people just didn't believe him capable of having something as simple as R&R. ~~~~

Seven suppressed a groan. She had successfully gotten rid of the rest of the crew and was heading for the station's infirmary. On the way there a Ferengi merchant offered to buy her ocular implant, and under normal circumstances she would have smashed his ugly visage in, but for the moment it felt safer to not stand out too much. So, she ignored it.

When she entered the infirmary, things looked calm. Her gaze wandered over the biobeds and instruments, everything as impeccable as expected, except for the fact that there was no doctor. For a moment she just stood there waiting, until finally her curiosity won. "Doctor," she called.

No answer.

She sighed. "Computer, where is the station's doctor?"

_"The doctor is deactivated."_

She rolled her eyes. "Computer, activate EMH."

"Please state the nature of the medical emergency," the voice said playfully.

She turned around. The Doctor had materialized right behind her. "You saw me coming, didn't you?"

"Of course, I did." He opened his arms, offering her a hug. Seven accepted it. "News travels faster than light on a space station, and the infamous admiral Picard with his ragtag crew of misfits certainly attracts some attention." He smiled.

"I had hoped to avoid detection by depositing the crew at the bar."

"You failed, my dear. Despite that, I'm happy to see you." The Doctor started ushering her toward his office. "And if I may say so, you look good, Seven. Probably due to those rumors about new love in your life," he teased.

Seven felt herself blush. "How do you even know about that?"

"Notoriety, and all that." He was clearly having too much fun with their exchange. Seven took a breath and pressed her lips together, then after a moment of deliberation, she asked as neutrally as possible, "and how is your wife?"

The Doctor raised an eyebrow. "Ingrid is fine, thank you for asking."

Despite the polite answer a certain wariness was reflected in his drawn brow while the beginnings of minuscule smirk were starting to tug at Seven's lips. "She's the station's second-in-command, isn't she."

"She is." The Doctor was eyeing her carefully now.

"I heard she's pregnant."

The Doctor nodded.

"And how exactly did that work? With you being photons and all," Seven leant in and gestured to the Doctor's holographic body, smug smile painted on her face.

The Doctor huffed and crossed his arms over his chest. "Alright, Seven, point taken. But seriously, nice as it is seeing you after all these years – and I would like to stress that you really could have called, at least to let me know you're ok," he deflected, "I assume you're here because you want something."

Seven basked in a last triumphant chuckle before she nodded, her expression taking on a more serious look again and gaze straying to the chairs surrounding the Doctor's heavy table. They sat down.

The Doctor was regarding her intently, and Seven felt a surge of warmth in her chest for her old friend. "I'm sorry I didn't call," she said. "Things have been intense." She brushed a few errand strands of hair out of her face. The doctor observed the movement, not saying anything, merely following it with keen eyes. His look was fond.

"I'm here because I need your help in a holographic matter."

His eyes lit up. "A holographic matter? You don't want to get pregnant too," he joked, but Seven only shook her head." No, I want you to have look at some holographic code."

The Doctor's eyebrows rose in interest. "I see."

* * *

"You a synth too?" the Ferengi bartender asked overly casual. He was wiping a glass while Elnor was staring at his beverage that according to the bartender was supposed to be prune juice but really wasn't. The young man looked up, confused. "No, I'm Romulan."

"A Romulan," the bartender parroted far too loudly. It had several of the patrons turn their heads. They started whispering amongst each other. "Then have an ale on the house!" He promptly put another glass that was filled with a clear blue liquid in front of the young man, taking the first one away. The strong alcoholic odor of this new drink made Elnor scrunch up his nose and regret the loss of the 'prune juice' almost instantly.

"Careful," Picard whispered, "even if it's not real Romulan ale, that one packs a punch."

Elnor nodded before taking a sip and grimacing immediately. "It's disgusting!"

The bartender laughed and Picard chuckled.

The crew were sitting around various tables. They had attracted quite a bit of attention when they'd entered the bar – well, mostly Picard and Soji had, but nobody had dared to do anything but gawk at them, and when Rios had spotted and old acquaintance of his, Morn, and proclaimed rather loudly how good it was to see him, the tension had broken and people returned to far more interesting things, namely their drinks.

"So, do you think Seven will be able to convince her doctor friend to help," Jurati asked but didn't really wait for an answer and prattled on instead, "I can't believe Seven knows the famous holographic doctor. He's a technological marvel…" She looked a bit starry-eyed, it had Rios threw her a look, which was completely disregarded in turn.

"Sometimes I regret having gone into cybernetics and not holo engineering. It's such a promising field. Not that cybernetics isn't' fascinating, but…" She finally seemed to notice that she had been rambling and gave Soji an apologetic smile, once again completely ignoring Rios.

Soji patted her hand. "In a way it's reassuring to know that we're already yesterday's news. I just wish everybody would see it like this." She subtly gestured to the Klingon that had been staring at their table for several minutes, his eyes spewing poison.

"He's looking for fight," Rios muttered under his breath. He and his companions sat huddled together, so when the Klingon finally decided to approach them, about to land a heavy hand on Soji's delicate shoulder, they were prepared. Rios whirled around, Raffi sprang to her feet with her chair clattering to the ground noisily, Jurati took on a defensive stance, and Elnor wanted to draw his sword… only to realize it wasn't there. He cursed a little, but Picard put a calming hand on his lower arm. He walked over to the cluster of people at a leisurely pace.

"What seems to be the problem, gentlemen?" he asked.

"You are my problem!" The Klingon turned and planted himself threateningly before the old admiral. "You synth scum pretending to be real people, it's dishonorable!" He roared, but Picard didn't react and instead merely regarded him with an unimpressed almost smug expression, which only incensed the Klingon more. With another growl he swung at Picard, who took a well-calculated step back. The Klingon missed, the force of his swing making him tumble into Rios and Raffi who shoved him off with some angry yelling.

From that point on the scene escalated.

Some of the other patrons felt they needed to support the Klingon and got in on the racket, attacking either Elnor or Rios from behind. All the while, the Ferengi bartender screamed that broken furniture needed to be replaced and culprits would be held accountable. It didn't prevent people from using chairs and glasses as weapons though. Even Jurati threw a mug at the Klingon's back. It went mostly unnoticed, and only when Soji decided to fell him with a precise roundhouse kick, did he finally go down. Jurati cheered in triumph and she and Soji high-fived.

"Security! Security!" someone yelled, maybe the Ferengi, maybe someone else.

Eventually the beige-clad officers of the Bajoran militia stormed the bar, taking everybody into custody, except for Picard. The old admiral somehow seemed to be above scrutiny. It elicited some scandalized "Hey!"s from people, but Picard gifted them with a thoroughly scolding look that immediately cowed them.

"I'll be back for you once I clear up the situation with the authorities," he said to Rios and the rest of the crew. The captain had somehow sustained a gash above his eyebrow but looked like he was having the time of his life while the security officers dragged him away. "No hurry," Rios grinned.

"No, please hurry!" Raffi threw in. In a lower voice she added, "I can't have more on my record." Picard nodded.

"Are we going to be sent to prison?" Jurati piped up, nervously trying to catch a security officer's eye with a raised hand, who in turn blatantly ignored her.  
  
"Just the brig," The Ferengi bartender supplied instead. He sounded much calmer now and was back to wiping his counter as if nothing unusual had happened. On its far end though he came across an unexpected obstacle, a silver cat that was sitting there, grooming its paws. The bartender's eyes widened. "What…?"

"There you are!" Elnor exclaimed, immediately straining in the guards' grip. "Where were you when I needed you?"

The cat cocked its head and looked at the young Romulan with big uncomprehending eyes. Picard sat down next to it and started to gently pet the luxurious fur between its ears. It let him.

* * *

They were on their way back to docking, _La Sirena_ waiting for them.

"It's always like this," Raffi groused while she punched in the order to have the airlock closed behind them. "Us little worker bees have to face the consequences of our actions and His Majesty sits comfortably onboard hi- your ship," she gestured wildly to Rios, "and waits for the storm to pass."

"Hush, Raffi," Rios retorted, seemingly unfazed by her little slip-up. "We should consider ourselves lucky Picard has so much pull to get us out of the brig without even having to post any bail."

"Bail," she scoffed and rolled her eyes. The others had already moved toward their stations, ready to leave for their next stop on this weird scavenger hunt. "It's all about the fame."

"Did you know that according to statistics, more people in the federation know the name Jean-Luc Picard than what our current president is called?" Jurati supplied cheerfully and obviously completely incapable of reading the room. Some heads turned in her direction, Elnor looked especially curious. He had the silver cat on his shoulder. "What is the current president's name?"

"Sunal? Sutal? Anyway, he's Vulcan." Rios pulled a face before waving a dismissive hand and sliding into his captain’s chair. "Seven, have you and your holographic friend been able to figure out where to next?"

The xB stepped onto the bridge, her arms folded over her chest. She looked serious. "Yes, but you won't like it."   
Picard was right behind her. He too looked somewhat disconcerted. "We're going to Coppelius."

* * *

_"When this is over, I'd like to tell Seven," the young man said. Unseen he was standing behind her on the bridge, studying her face and rigid posture. She had certainly changed in recent years but underneath it all she was still Seven of Nine, his Seven of Nine._

_Q sighed, dramatically draping himself over one of the consoles while_ La Sirena _sped ahead. "You know that's easier said than done, the time stream…"_

_"Don't give me the time stream nonsense!" the young man interrupted. "You yourself told me repeatedly how little you think of it, so don't use it as an excuse. Seven has fulfilled her purpose and helped Picard avert Ganmadan, you don't need to leave her in the dark any longer." He sounded forceful, unrelenting. Junior knew he wouldn't be able to hold him back much longer, or at least not without making use of some serious Qish manipulation, and he was really quite averse to that idea._

_So, he sighed, deeply, and got up. With his hands propped between his legs, he leant in. "But you know that will change things, like seriously change them. She will expect you to come back, and that…" he refrained from saying '_ and that's impossible'.

_"I know, Q." The young man's eyes softened. "I just want her to know that I'm ok, so that she can find some peace."_

_"Peace is overrated," Q stated and shook his head. There was something akin to melancholy reflected in his eyes though. "It doesn't make for a very good story."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why is the Doctor DS9's CMO and not Bashir?   
> Well, in my first concept for this story I wanted the crew to take a trip to Cardassia, where they would inadvertently have met Garak and Bashir. I then decided to forgo that because this story's tone was supposed to be on the lighter, more comedic side, and Picard and Cardassians spells trauma. However, it's still very much part of my assumption that Bashir joined Garak after the Dominion war the help rebuild Cardassia and never really left the planet again. So DS9 would've been in need of a new CMO, and why not have the Doctor – after all, this is a story full of self-indulgent cameos.


	6. Chapter 5

They were going in circles. It was so frustrating and as such so Q. Picard balled his hands to fists, observing the movement while sitting in his chair on _La Sirena's_ bridge. He felt humbled and somewhat idiotic to lead this young and eager crew on such a pointless quest. He’d expected… well, he didn't know what he'd expected. Something different, maybe grander. Back in the old days, Q had set such momentous tasks before him and now… now he felt like a mouse following the scent of cheese through a crude, cardboard labyrinth.

"ETA for Coppelius forty minutes," Enoch announced.

"Are you looking forward to going home, Soji?" Jurati asked.

The young woman shrugged, wearing a somewhat sheepish expression. "I wasn't gone long."

Picard agreed. They had barely left Coppelius when _Q, the son_ had turned up with his request. It made Picard wonder if its whole purpose had been to humiliate him, or if this Q really just lacked the finesse his father possessed. Picard snorted. It had Soji and Jurati turn their heads and throw him curious looks. He merely gave them a mild smile in return.

Q and finesse, these were two words he'd certainly never expected to use in the same sentence. But here they were, on their way to Coppelius to bring this game to its conclusion. And Picard was pretty certain that Coppelius would be the conclusion because it would mean bringing things full circle, end their journey where it had started. He just couldn't quite figure out what it meant. Maybe something about the futility of their existence, or that no matter how far they ran, they would never really get anywhere. He sighed and rubbed his forehead.

"So, Picard, how did you and Seven figure out we had to go to Coppelius?"

Picard plastered the mild smile back on his face. People liked to think of him as a kindly grandfather, Dr Jurati and her never-ceasing questions no exception to the rule.

"Seven's doctor friend proved to be a valuable asset. He realized that hidden within the holographic matrix there was another code which essentially boiled down to being coordinates. Coppelius' coordinates."

"Fascinating. And what do you think we're going to find there? Apart from synths, of course."

Picard stared at the viewscreen, letting the question hang in the space between them with the seconds ticking by. He didn't know the answer. Maybe arriving back on the synth home world would enlighten him, but so far, he had nothing, and he felt a certain reluctance admitting that out loud. Eventually, he turned back to Jurati. "We'll see," he said enigmatically. "Q's always had the habit of being hard to anticipate, his behavior erratic at best."

"Erratic at best," a voice parroted and laughed. The blink of an eye later, young Q appeared on the bridge and flopped down in the chair next to Picard's. He grinned and put his feet up on one of the consoles. "I have to tell Dad about that, he'll love to be called erratic."

"I'm sure he already knows," Picard shot Q a sharp look that followed his long legs and eventually focused on the propped-up feet, his mouth pursed in disdain.

"Oh, of course, he knows. He's Q! But it's still something different coming from you." He sat up straight again. "Because that's what we talked about, you're supposed to cheer him up."

Picard raised his chin. "I really don't see how exactly such a feat could be accomplished."

But Q only waved his hand dismissively. "Oh, you'll think of something. You've come so far; you'll figure the rest out too…"

"Q!" Seven yelled, stomping up the stairs to the bridge with her teeth bared and her eyes blazing. "You useless, unreliable…"

"Uh," Q got up. He was looking decidedly uneasy now. "Time to go." He shot Picard a last, supposedly encouraging look before lifting his hand and…

"Don't you dare running away from me!"

…snapping his fingers.

An empty spot remained, and three rather confused people stared at the wild-looking Seven. "What the hell was that?" Soji asked and Picard added, mild-mannered as always, "Would you care to explain what's going on here, Seven?"

She took a deep breath, her hands opening and closing all the while. It was clear she was still fighting to get her emotions back under control. "That one's a treacherous weasel!"

"I don't disagree, but some more information would be helpful."

Seven's head turned, her gaze directed at the wall and shoulders tense. Pressed, she said, "That Q, the young one, often turned up on _Voyager_. It looked like he had taken a shine to one of the crewmembers, Icheb. Their acquaintance continued even after _Voyage_ r had returned home. I know because Icheb told me. But then, he wasn't there when… when…" she faltered.

Picard had gotten up and placed a careful hand on her shoulder. They knew the story; it wasn't necessary for her to say more. "Placing your trust in Q is never good advice. They can't be relied upon, not when it really matters, because in the end these entities only serve themselves."

Seven nodded. Her gaze was still glued to some unseen point on the wall. The tension, however, had left her body. "He could have helped," she said in a small voice.

"They never help though; they only ever play their cruel little games."

She turned towards him. "Then why do you bother with this quest?"

Picard huffed, a self-deprecating smile gracing his features. "Because I'm not Q."

* * *

Picard stood in front of the sarcophagus. He wasn't really sure if it was even the right name for it but associating re-birth with it seemed weirdly fitting. His wrinkled hands trailed the smooth surface, and for a moment the rather ironic thought occurred to him that Q junior might have had point. If you could have any body you wanted, why go for one so old and creaky?

He shook his head at himself and turned towards the window. He had never been a vain man, or at least not about his looks. Of course, there had been a period of mourning back in his youth when he'd started losing his hair, but he'd gotten over that quick enough. It had, after all, always been his mind he'd been exceptionally proud of.

He joined Soong and Jurati, who were already deep in conversation about some new cybernetic knickknack or other. They'd been welcomed back to Coppelius warmly, though the expected surprise at their early return hadn't failed to happen. It been hard to explain, especially because Picard wasn't entirely sure what they were even looking for either. A sign, probably. A Qish puzzle piece that fit with the rest of this charade.

Picard suppressed a sigh, still his movement drew and inquiring look from Jurati. Wordlessly it seemed to ask _is_ _everything ok?_ Picard gave her strained smile. "I'll go outside for a bit."

Jurati nodded but Picard was already halfway through the door. He felt frustrated.

* * *

Rios, Elnor and Soji were outside playing soccer with a few of the synths. There was amused shouting and Picard's arrival was greeted with some exuberant invitation to join them. He raised his eyebrow and retorted in a deadpan voice. "I was always more of a musician."

Rios snorted and Soji was laughing, only Elnor seemed mildly confused. It didn't keep him from scoring a goal while Rios at looking at Picard though. The captain's attention immediately reverted back to the game and Picard sat down on one of the benches next to playing field. He watched them running back and forth without really looking. His thoughts were on Q.

What did he want? Why Coppelius? Barclay had been a thinly veiled taunt and the code in the holo matrix had ultimately been nothing but a game of hide and seek, but Coppelius? It didn't fit.

Picard pinched the bridge of is nose and almost didn't notice the ball that came flying in his direction. He dodged it, mostly. It still grazed his shoulder and landed in the grass behind him. The crew immediately came running. "Picard, are you alright?" There was worry in their faces. It had him send them a reassuring smile. "I'm perfectly alright. Nothing to worry about." His hand went to his shoulder. "This synthetic body is very sturdy. It…" he stopped, his hand still lingering on the uninjured shoulder.

This body was very sturdy indeed. Not Data sturdy, but certainly more resilient that his old flesh and blood vessel.

His gaze wandered back to the house. When he'd been human, his time had been up, the clock about the strike twelve, but because of the transference - the re-birth in the sarcophagus - he now had another go. He got up with a start and began marching back towards the house, completely ignoring the puzzled looks of the crew that followed him.

That was it, wasn't it? His not-death! Q was displeased because he hadn't died and was now sulking like the devil cheated out of his due.

Picard was almost sprinting now. He stumbled back into the research room where Jurati and Soong were just as he'd left them. They looked up at his sudden arrival with confusion on their faces, but Picard surged ahead. He didn't really know how the sarcophagus worked, so his finger slid aimlessly over the installation, pushing buttons here and there and eventually succeeding at getting the lid to open.

"What are you doing?" Soong asked. Both he and Jurati had gotten up.

Picard ignored them. Instead he was staring at the sarcophagus. Should he get in? His memory of waking up in it after the transference was vague, but he knew this was where it'd happened. After another moment of deliberation, he threw all caution to the wind, and a voice at the back of his head seemed to whisper _just as reckless as in the good old days._ He ignored it too and climbed in.

The lid slid closed and Jurati and Soong came sprinting over, hammering against the installation, and punching commands into the controls. Picard knew it didn't matter; he had solved the riddle. And sleep took him.

He woke up again surrounded by blackness. Though it wasn't quite blackness. At a second look, his examination revealed that there were stars and even the vague outlines of some distant nebulas. Picard took a deep breath. He was in space, in open space.

Someone applauded. _"Bien joué, mon amiral."_

Picard braced himself and turned around. There he stood, exactly as he remembered him.

"Q."

Q bowed a little, then a frown started forming on his features. He rounded Picard looking him up and down, displeasure becoming more and more apparent. "What is that?" he gestured at Picard. "You look so old and wrinkly."

Picard raised an eyebrow, weirdly amused by the lack of tact. "Well, I am old and wrinkly."

"Yes, I know. But you don't need to look it." Q sounded almost offended, and Picard could only roll his eyes at him.

"I don't mind it," he said.

"But I do!" Q shook his head in exasperation.

"For someone who isn't human, human vanity seems to be quite the issue for you."

Now it was Q's turn to roll his eyes. "Don't reduce everything to your tiny mortal scales. Appearance is paramount for your underdeveloped species, otherwise you would never be able to make sense of _le moi_ ," he gestured to himself.

Picard refrained from saying anything in return. Instead he turned towards that stars. "Why have you brought me here?"

"I didn't, you came of your own accord. Or rather because Junior asked you to." He stepped behind Picard and placed his hand on the old admiral's shoulder. Picard ignored it and retorted somewhat sourly, "he would have pestered me until I relented."

Q chuckled and removed his hand. "He can be quite a handful."

"A handful? You must be kidding, he's exactly like you!" Picard turned, and then stopped abruptly. He stared at Q's changed appearance. His hair was all white and an unfamiliar yet not completely unflattering goatee adorned his face. He'd aged several decades and looked around the same age as Picard himself.

"You were saying?" the entity extended his arms, radiating smugness.

"You're old."

"Just like you." Q conjured a walking stick and hobbled to Picard's side. "We can be geezers together."

Picard rubbed his temple. "Why, Q? I thought you abhorred all the saggy skin and liver spots."

"Oh, don't put words in my mouth." He stood straight again. "I said why accept the limitations of your mortal flesh sack when you could be anything you wanted, even Jean-Luc Picard in his prime." He smacked the walking stick against Picard's shin and ignored the latter's indignant exclamation and reproachful glare. "It's actually quite masochistic of you, you know. It's like you want that old, fragile body to punish you. But for me, this form is nothing. Old or young, it doesn't matter, I'm still who I've always been underneath."

"Your son doesn't seem to agree there," Picard looked up and crossed his arms over his chest. He studied Q with a glint of retribution in his eyes. "He wouldn't have sent me here otherwise. What did he say?" His finger rubbed his chin mock pensively, "Oh yes, he said, 'Dad's been in a funk' and I should go and cheer you up."

Q's eyes narrowed. Under his breath he muttered something that sounded suspiciously like _"We're going to have a word about this, Junior."_ Directed back at Picard, he plastered the fakest smile on his face. "Oh, Junior exaggerates. Why would I be in a funk? I'm omnipotent, omnipresent and eternal. Nothing to be moping around about."

"Maybe that's exactly the reason why you're moping around," Picard rounded Q, who in turn held his head high in the most demonstrative fashion. The admiral wasn't deterred. "You didn't like how it ended for me. Or rather that it didn't end." He let the words hang between them for a moment, building momentum for the final blow. "Back then, when my heart gave out and I was about to die on that operating table, you said we'd spend eternity together. But with this new synthetic body who knows how much longer you will have to wait until time takes its inevitable course."

"I could kill you any time," Q scoffed.

"But you won't." Picard smiled and felt a heady recklessness coursing through his veins. He probably shouldn't be provoking Q like this, but what did he have to lose? So, he snatched the walking stick out of the entity's hand and twirled it once. It had Q raise an eyebrow, but his eyes still followed the movement keenly.

"I just raced around two quadrants and several sectors to find you. You better tell me what it is you want."

Q cocked his head and the seconds ticked by. His dark eyes were on Picard, reflecting the eternal swirling of the universe in an almost ominous way. Until, abruptly, he sprang back to life and a grin started spreading over his features. Q bent forward. "Yes, why did you do that? For someone who claims to find me distasteful, it's quite the effort."

Picard's shoulders stiffened, fruitlessly trying to move out of Q's personal space. "I help all those in need. It's the right thing to do."

"Yes yes, we know, you're big on the whole white knight shtick. But, Picard, I'm no charity case," Q was crowding him now, his superior height still an issue even with this aged version. He grabbed Picard's upper-arm. "I don't need anyone's help, and you know that. Still, you came when asked. So, tell me why."

"Don't turn this around on me!" Picard shook himself free from Q's grip and took a step back. He straightened his jacket, stalling for time. The entity observed the whole thing with a rather self-satisfied smirk.

"Have it your way then, _mon amiral_." He raised his hands and regarded Picard with an intense look. "I'll start. I want what I've always wanted. For you to came with me."

The scenery around them changed and they were no longer in open space but instead found themselves in the endless whiteness Picard had experienced the last time when he'd died of heart failure, it didn't evoke the best of associations.

Meanwhile, Q went on as if it were the most normal occurrence in the universe. "You owe me a life, Jean-Luc. It was supposed to end that day on Coppelius after that last great victory. You even got to save the galaxy again, so I think I was very generous with you. But that you now go running off with yet another crew of messed-up little half-wits really wasn't part of the deal."

"I wasn't my decision." Picard was staring at the whiteness, resisting the urge to dig hid fingernails into his palms. It felt overwhelmingly endless right now. "I was ready to die," he gritted out. "It was good to see Data, but I could have lived – or rather died– with the knowledge that I did what I could to make things right."

Q nodded. "Which brings us back to why you came here. I want to be compensated, and you, I think, _want_ to compensate me." Once again, he placed his hands on Picard's upper-arm, and this time the admiral didn't break free. Instead he sighed deeply.

"Things aren't what they used to be. I'm not what I used to be. I… " he seemed to be groping for words. "It's the familiarity of it I find comforting."

"Familiarity," Q weighed the word on his tongue. Then he broke into a big grin and moved to the side so his arm was around Picard's shoulder. He started to guide them into a not further specified directing of this gaping whiteness, which had Picard throw an alarmed look behind him as he was dragged away.

"Familiarity, I can work with," Q commented conversationally. "People may say that familiarity breeds contempt, but what do they know? It's familiarity that builds trust…"

A derisive snort interrupted Q's ramblings and drew their attention. The son was casually leaning against an invisible wall, his arms behind his back. Then pushed himself off and sauntered over. "I wouldn't believe a word he says. But then, you're not completely daft, are you, Picard. You know you can't…"

"Shut up, Junior!" Q had stopped and was pointing a menacing finger at the young man. "Or I'll ground you for a millennium and your boyfriend will have died before you ever get out of the house again!" 

The young man remained demonstratively unimpressed, a mocking smile on his lips, eventually he conceded though by raising his hands in a placating manner. "I'm just saying, nobody believes your platitudes anymore, Dad. You should really up your game." Then he winked at Picard and blinked out of existence again.

Q sighed and shook his head. "I have to apologize, Junior really doesn't know when it's inappropriate to drop in on people."

"Just like his father," Picard muttered.

"I resent that notion," Q went on as if nothing had happened, "I consider my view of the universe much more complex and all-encompassing than his. After all, had I set the tasks for you, you'd never have figured them out so quickly. They were really quite crude, don’t you think? I can't say I was particularly impressed, but you're here after all. So, I guess Junior got something right at least."

The walking stick in Picard's hand, which he 'd unwittingly still been clinging to, transformed into a bouquet of flowers. Picard almost dropped them in shock.

"What's that for?" He asked.

"You solved the riddle. Congratulations!" A spray of confetti rained down on them.

Picard's face remained impassive. "And what should I do with them?" He waved the bouquet around a bit. Inwardly though he had to admit the flowers were quite lovely in colour and fragrance – not a breed he was familiar with - but that wasn't something he'd ever say to Q.

"Whatever you want." Q's grip on his shoulder tightened. "Look at them, smell them, you could even eat them if you wanted to. They're quite popular in the local Antaran cuisine, I might add."

"Yes, because they're also a potent aphrodisiac," Junior's disembodied voice sing-songed from somewhere to their left. Q shushed him and waved his hand at some invisible point. The sound of laughter got fainter as they moved on and continued in their aimless stroll through the white.

"Is your son always around?" Picard tried to sound casual, but his palms around the bouquet's stems had grown a bit sweaty.

"Don't worry about him, Jean-Luc. He won't bother us. Most of the time the little rascal is busy with his own playthings."

Picard stiffened and stopped. He turned towards Q and fixed him with a hard look. "Is that what I am to you? A plaything?" The hurt in his voice more evident than intended, so he lifted the bouquet and handed it back to Q.

The entity stared at the flowers, confusion passing over his features. "Of course, that's what you are." He put his hand over Picard's, expression earnest. "You are a plaything, an adversary, the only noteworthy specimen of your primitive little species and..." his grip become tighter, "my friend. And I wouldn't bother staking claim on your insignificant self if you were replaceable."

Picard's brow furrowed, but then he took a deep breath and shook his head. "That was the rudest compliment I've ever received." He freed his hands from Q but kept the bouquet.

A wicked grin spread over entity's features. He jerked Picard closer, so they were flush against each other. "You better get used to it, because that's what this deal for eternity entails." He laughed and Picard's features contorted into a grimace.

"Wonderful." He still clung to the flowers in his hands though.


	7. Epilogue

_La Sirena_ was quiet, the crew mostly asleep, except for retired admiral Jean-Luc Picard who was wandering the darkened corridors in search of something to calm his nerves. Q had just left, after another battle of wits… and other things.

That's how it was most of the time now. Q turned up whenever it pleased him. He hassled Picard a little bit, sometimes they fought, sometimes they did other things. It was in itself an acceptable arrangement, and Picard appreciated the fact that the entity usually stayed away from the crew… usually, not always.

So, Picard approached the mess hall and to his surprise heard muted voices. He slowed his step. He could only identify one of the speakers.

"Just be careful," Seven said.

The answer remained unintelligible, but the voice was clearly not a familiar one. Instinctively, Picard perked up his ears. He was, of course, aware that eavesdropping was far from good conduct but years of Starfleet training that had become second nature to him demanded caution. Very slowly he set his feet back into motion, making sure his arrival was anticipated. When he rounded the corner and the big table in the mess hall came into view, he only caught a brief glimpse of a young man before he blinked out of existence.

He frowned. "That wasn't Q."

Seven sighed. "No, that was Icheb."

"I see." Picard sat down at the table and regarded a tired looking Seven. She was massaging her forehead, yet there was something about her posture that seemed less rigid, like some immense burden has just been lifted from her shoulders. "So, the gods are playing favorites again?"

"Seems like it."

Picard nodded before silence descended upon them, both dwelling on their own thoughts for a while. Their comfortable peace was eventually interrupted when the silver cat appeared with a soft "meow" and jumped on the bench next to Picard. The admiral petted it gently.

"Have they finally decided on a name?" Seven asked.

Picard huffed. "I received mixed answers. Elnor still just calls it Sword, Dr Jurati and Soji seem to have settled on Furball, and captain Rios refers to it as Nuisance."

"Hmmm, my favourite is still Menace," she smiled a little.

Picard seemed to think about that and after a moment of deliberation, he said, "What about Bergamot? It's an essential in the flavoring of Earl Grey tea, and…"

Seven snorted. "Only you could come up with something so pretentious for a cat name."

And somewhere on the other side of the galaxy Q agreed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The working title of this fic was "A Comedy of Errors". Unfortunately though, my initial intention of making this into a funny story didn't work quite as well as I'd hoped^^' Then, I contemplated naming it "Devil's Due" but realized there was already a TNG episode of that title (and Q's not even in it), so that was out too. Eventually, I settled and "Familiarity breeds contempt, and Q" as a reference to the resolving scene.
> 
> Anyway, let me know what you think. Comments are the elixir of ever author's life ♥


End file.
